Wednesday, 27 February 2013

I am no artist, I am not a wordsmith. I don't have crafting skills that excel above any other and I can't follow through with a crochet or knitting project. But I do give it a go. I paint my own paintings and I draw a few black and white sketches. I still try a granny smith, here and there and I finish crafty projects every once and a while. I would absolutely love to create a business with my own two hands. Something that is built on my own skill and dedication. But, the reality is, I just don't have either of those two things.Women who do, completely inspire me. I am in awe of these people who, while having children, dedicate their spare time to creating. I watch them with such adoration and so I made a decision this week. I am not able to create my own business, but I have created this little space on the internet. From the moment I started this blog I have always wanted to do something with it. Something that helps other people, if only in the smallest way. This week I decided to use what I have created to support other women who also create.So I have opened up two free advertising spots on my sidebar for 'Working from Home Mums' to advertise their business, their creativity, their skills... their hands. I offered this opportunity earlier this week and was completely overwhelmed by the response and feel so honoured to have so many beautiful, creative women who read my blog every week and it has been a delight to be able to offer them something in return!So, without further ado, let me please introduce you to the two women and their businesses who you will see just to the right of my page, over there.Meet Qew from 'Beautiful Life Industries'Qew is a Mum to beautiful little Olive who is only days older than Evelyn.She has just recently opened her online store which is dedicated to sourcing products that are handmade and eco-friendly. If you follow me on facebook you would have seen a few of her items that I have shared in the past, I absolutely adore the bags and purses. She has the most beautiful range of children's clothes that are soon to be revealed and I am so very excited!The reason why I am so thrilled to be able to support Qew and her business is because not only will I be supporting her venture, but I am able to support the craftsmanship of women in other countries. Please click on her button and follow it through to her facebook page.I promise you will not be disappointed.

Meet Skye from 'Little Pearl Designs'

Skye is a stay at home mum to two beautiful young children.

In her spare time she creates the most wonderfully gorgeous hand-made room decor and accessories for children. She can custom design some items with your children's names and birth dates. Her store is full of the sweetest, most beautiful items!

I am so excited to be able to support Skye and her business venture. Her little store was exactly what I had in mind when I put the call out for stay at home working mums. She creates such pretty, beautiful pieces of art with her own hands and I am in absolute awe!

Please click her button to the right to see more examples of her beautiful work

These two wonderful women will be on my sidebar for the next 30 days, after which the positions will become available to another two women. If you have a pair of hands that create beauty I would love to hear from you at myheartisyourhome@hotmail.com

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

My Mum used to own three acres of land in a town called Old Bar. I spent the last two years of my life as a school student and small town girl on that land. We had just moved to Old Bar from Forster, about 30 minutes away. Which was a lifetime when you lived in Forster and everything was within 5 minutes from each other. There wasn't much to do out there for entertainment. But, the one thing I used to take so much peace from was mowing the lawns. There is something so therapeutic about a repetitive action. One blade of grass at a time, one row after another. Over and over again, all three acres worth of blades. I would get off that mower a relaxed and calmer, albeit sweatier, version of my former self.Once I left Old Bar and that lawn mower my therapy was in limbo. No blades of grass to stare at. No roaring ride-on to sit on. No repetitive action. Until I got in the pool and I swam, lap after lap. Thinking about nothing other than that black line down the centre and my breathe. One arm over another. The splashing of two fast kicking feet. My body skimming along the surface of the water. Wall. Touch. Spin, turn. Black line and go. I would swim for what felt like eternity. One lap after another until all my thoughts and stresses were... gone. Then I moved again, away from a pool and close to the ocean. I found it too ironic to live by the ocean and then pay to use a pool and I was too afraid to swim the length of the beach, so swimming came to a halt. I began to run. Put myself in training to run the Sydney Marathon. I was living on my own at the time, no television and no distractions. I would be in bed by 8pm and up at 4:30 and I would run. One foot after the other, pounding the pavement. Arms swaying swiftly but softly by my side. The wind through my hair and my focus on my breathe. The throbbing sound of my body hitting the hard ground, time after time.I then met Anthony, fell in love, fell pregnant, had a baby and life got away from me. The only repetitive action I now partake in is the changing of nappies, the washing of clothes, folding, putting away. Cleaning the kitchen, four times a day. Not so therapeutic. Not so calming and most definitely not peaceful.I have talked about my struggles a lot over the last few months and one of those struggles as been to get myself out of the house and do something that is just for me. I have not known where to go, what to do. Being heavily pregnant with pelvic bones that feel as though they are tearing apart and falling out of my body obviously ruled out a lot of activities. I would become so overwhelmed about leaving the house and once I finally did I would sit in my car and cry because I did not know where to go, who to see or what to do. I would drive for half an hour and then I would come home.This past week has been a particularly trialling one. I have been dealing with consistent braxton hicks which keep me awake and uncomfortable all night. Restless legs. Fatigue. Irritability. Evelyn's naughty has reached its full capacity. I am tired, drained, exhausted. I want to sleep but I cant. I cry. Every day. Over nothing. Over everything. So I decided to do something for myself, kind of. I asked Anthony to please come down to the ocean pool with me each afternoon so that I could swim. Having him with me made leaving the house a stress free experience, then he would take Evelyn off adventuring and I would have my hour of peace. Back in the water. It has truly saved me. Saved my mind. One arm over the other. One kicking foot after the next. Breathe in and breathe out. Up and down. The weight of my body is non existent and the pain in my pelvis, forgotten. I swim, back and forth, in the most beautiful ocean pool. The horizon in front of me and the sun setting on my back. Not focusing on a black line, but focusing on the hermit crabs, the star fish, the sea weed and the sand all swirling around each other beneath me. A whole other world, a world beneath the sea, that for just one hour a day I get to join, one lap at a time. Being in that water this week has changed me from a sobbing, heaving, completely inconsolable pregnant woman to a calm, peaceful and smiling girl. I have found my repetitive action once again and in doing so I have found my centre. I will not let the words of others effect me in these last few weeks, I will not allow for life to slow me down. As long as I am in that water there will be no feat I can not tackle. One arm after the other. Kick, kick, kick.Spin and turn.Breathe

Monday, 25 February 2013

I have been convinced this entire journey that this pregnancy would be short, that I would be holding Jelly Baby much earlier than full term. So to make to it 37 weeks is almost a shock. A welcomed shock, as uncomfortable as I am, but still a shock. I honestly did not believe that I would make it to full term. But I am pleased to announce that I am now full term. Medically speaking, my baby is ready to be born, any day now.

The house has been cleaned, organised, cleaned again. My natural nesting instincts have been at work for weeks now and I am so prepared for this child to be a part of our home. To bring baby home to be placed in the bassinet. To be wrapped in muslin and to be cuddled, snuggled and loved by us all. We are all prepared to have this baby here with us. We are all ready.

Evelyn saw a newborn baby for the very first time last week and she was so fascinated. So gentle, soft and calm. She stared longingly at home, with a small smile playing with the corners of her mouth. The Mother of the baby was so accommodating, allowed Evelyn to rub that boy's toes. I just know that she is going to be wonderful, she is going to make the most beautiful big Sister and I can already feel my heart swell with pride.

It is starting to become very difficult to talk about Jelly without mentioning a he or a she. A her or a him. I am so very excited to share the news with all my loved ones. My friends and family and my community... you! I cannot wait to tell you, blue or pink... pink or blue? What do you think? I cannot wait to share the news with you.

I hope that these will be our very last photo's of this series. We normally take these photo's on a Sunday and if my heart is true to me, then I will either be in labour or I will be cuddling this very loved and anticipated baby.

I look forward to my labour with so much excitement and joy. I cannot wait to take my body on this journey, connecting me to baby, baby to me. Listening to each other through our only form of communications, our hearts. Allowing my body to do for me exactly what I know it can do. I have a box full of labour tools ready, candles, music, motivational signs, fairy lights. From the moment labour begins our house will become one of peace and calm.

Jelly, I have said it once and I'll say it again, I am ready for you. I want to touch you, to kiss you, love you and hold you. You will come when you are ready and I will keep you safe until then, but when you are ready you just let me know and I will listen. I will bring you into this world in the best way I know how. I am ready for this journey with you, wont you be ready for me?

Sunday, 24 February 2013

Evelyn: My princess fairy, the wild adventurer. With grubby hands and wet feet, a stick in hand and fire in your heart you explore the world. So independently but always so gently, making sure that Mummy is near by to catch you shall you fall.

Saturday, 23 February 2013

Evelyn is forever changing. Her voice, her looks, her height, her mannerisms. Each and every day, something is different. They are amazing little beings, these toddlers. So eager to learn, so desperate to grow. I wish that I could stop time and soak it all in, I wish I could bottle up her now and keep it on my shelf forever. The days just slip by us and time disappears and some mornings I wake up and the Evelyn I knew is no longer there. I love her all the same, I love her even more, but I miss the little things, the things I will soon forget.All the little things that I want to hold onto so tightly, the little things I never want to see her grow out. They are the things that only I can love the way I do, they are the things that most people don't see, or they correct. But I love these moments, these mannerisms, the words, the understandings that only Evelyn can have, and only she can have now. I cant bottle her now up, I cant keep it forever. Sadly, it will slip us by, just like the days and this Evelyn will be a 'remember when' Evelyn. So, here are a few of my favourite things about Evelyn's now, that I never want to forget.

-- Mummy is very heavily pregnant and often requires the help of Daddy to get up off the lounge, or the ground, or out of the car. You have learnt that for me to go from sitting to standing, Daddy has to pull me up and so now, when you want me to come with you, you will come and hold my hand and say 'Mama, pulllll, up, walk'. You drag me by the hand and take me to where ever you want to go. Every single time you "pull" me up, my heart melts. I love the way your mind understands this situation. I love that when you do this in public only you and I understand what you mean and most of all... I love the face you make as you say that very word - pull-- Every single time I get you out of the car, without a doubt, you stand there and you wait patiently for me, with your hand in the air waiting for me to put mine in yours. You walk so gently on this earth, taking each step with such thought and caution. At this stage in your life, you need a little support to take your steps. You need your Mummy's hand. I never want that to stop. I love that you need me, that you trust that the world will always be okay, as long as your hand is in mine. I cherish these moments because I need you too. My world is always okay when your hand is in mine.-- Once we start walking and you know that you are safe because you are with me, and I am with you. You, always, look at me with your love eyes. Every time. You look up at me with sparkling eyes, full of wanderlust, full of love and full of trust. In that moment, your eyes appear bigger than they are. In that moment, I know that you heart is swollen. Just as mine is. Swollen with happiness and love. Because you are mine and I am yours and we will forever walk this earth together.

-- If you are not holding my hand, you are holding your Daddy's hand. There is a difference between the way you walk with him, compared to how you walk with me. A difference that I will never truly understand, nor do I want to. But I can see that it is there. You walk with a different air, a confidence. As you and your Daddy walk in front of me, I always smile. I am watching one of the most beautiful bonds grow, a bond between Daddy and Daughter. He loves you, with an intensity that you and I will always be in awe of.

-- You cherish your friendships. You are not even two years old and you hold them so close to you. You watch them with care, you care about them with love, you share with them with passion and you fight with them like siblings. You cherish all your friendships, with baby boys and baby girls, with Mummy's friends and with Daddy's friends. You are so kind and gentle and loving. Your friends love you which is so very important to me. For you to be loved, to know that you are loved. If I can control life, I would make sure that you never know neglect and rejection. -- Today I saw you with a baby for the very first time. You were fascinated. You loved him. You were soft and gentle and curious. I just know that you are going to make the most brilliant big Sister. I loved seeing you with that baby today and I cant wait to see you with our baby.

-- Your smile. The way you smile with me. The way you smile at me. Everything about your smile right now. Its beautiful. Its toothy. Its cute. It is just perfect.-- They way you say your words. There are words that I never want to forget.Bobble ~ BottleBro-ee ~ BrodieKite ~ LightPowpa ~ PowderCeem ~ CreamI may not be able to bottle your now but I can make sure I remember it. I love you and everything about you right now. I will be sad to see these moments go but with every day that slips by and each moment that slowly goes with it, there is a new day and a new moment that I love just as much.

Friday, 22 February 2013

When I was pregnant with Evelyn the idea of birthing her terrified me. To my absolute core. I was not excited about the labour or the birth, it was just a means to an end. I would have nightmares and wake up in anxious sweats. Birth was scary, dangerous, painful and it was just a process I needed to get through to be able to hold my sweet baby.So I made a decision early on in my pregnancy that I would avoid thinking about the birth and preparing for the birth. Anthony and I did not attend birthing classes, I did not do prenatal yoga, I did not read any books or articles on labour and delivery, we need not attend the maternity unit tour. I avoided the topic at all costs. The best approach for me was to pretend that it wasn't going to happen until I was in the middle of it and there was no time to lose my mind. It worked well for us, at the time. We turned up and I laboured for 33 hours. The only plan I had was to try and avoid having an epidural and to deliver a healthy baby. I made it to 29 hours before I fall to my knees and had my epidural and then I had a beautiful delivery of Evelyn and we were both happy with the entire experience. We both walked away saying that we enjoyed the experience, we bonded, we fell in love again and we couldn't wait to do it again.When I fell pregnant again I decided that I wanted, nay, I needed to be prepared for this birth. I needed to be researched. I wanted this birth to be an experience that we would both look forward to with anticipation and excitement. I wanted to walk through this pregnancy not only looking forward to the moment I get to hold my baby, but to look forward to the moment that I get to connect my body to my baby and work together to deliver baby into the world. It is a journey that only Jelly and I will travel after-all. So I wanted to make it special.That is why I chose to attend the calm birth classes. It was the best decision I have made throughout this entire pregnancy. It gave me peace and it gave me direction and it gave me confidence. I walked into that class knowing that I wanted a peaceful, calm water birth. But I was still scared and anxious about the process. I still placed a lot of power in the hands of the hospital staff. I didn't have the confidence to make this birth, my birth. I walked out of that class with a completely different mindset and a different view on what type of birth I would like to achieve. It gave me the confidence to make my wishes heard and to try and reach each goal on the day of labour. With Evelyn's birth, there were things that I would have liked to do differently but I didn't have the courage or confidence to make those wishes heard. So this time, I am going in with a list of birth intentions and, presuming that we have a normal and uncomplicated labour and birth, I will be fighting to reach every intention.I feel empowered. I feel strong. I feel confident and I feel ready. This birth is important to me. If I had of attended the calm birth classes earlier on in my pregnancy I would have come home and put a plan in place to have my baby at home. But that wasn't the case. Instead I will labour at home for as long as I can. I will have flowers and candles and fairy lights. The house will be quiet and calm and serene and I will allow my body to do what it is built to do. Once I am at the hospital I will immerse myself in their birthing pool where I hope to deliver this baby. I want peace and quiet. I want for the first touch on the babies skin to be by myself or Anthony, no gloves of a midwife. Natural skin to skin touch. Anthony is not sure that he will have the confidence to deliver the baby at the time, so in the case that he cant, I will lift the baby to my own chest. I want our voices to be the first that Jelly hears. I do not want active delivery management, to have a midwife yelling at me to push, would stress me out. I aim for calm.Of course, in the event that there are complications and medical intervention is required, that would be the path we have to walk. I accept that and I will not be disappointed. At the end of the labour what we want is to have a healthy baby and a healthy me. I would never stand in the way of the safety of my baby or myself. These intentions are made with the presumption that labour and delivery is normal. One thing that I learnt at calm birth that has really stayed with me is everything is good. If a caesarean is needed, that is not a failure or a disappointment, it is a rescue operation. It will save the life of me and my baby. Everything is good and I will accept any change of direction throughout my labour.I look forward with excitement and joy. Not only for the moment I get to hold my baby, but for the journey we are about to embark on. I cannot wait for Anthony, Jelly and I to be connected in a way that only a birth can create. I cannot wait for the bond that we are about to form. I cannot wait to birth you Jelly baby

Monday, 18 February 2013

I am ready. Ready for this birth, ready for this baby. My heart is aching for that first moment, the first touch, first smell. I am no longer focusing on getting through another week of pregnancy but I am dreaming of this baby being in my arms, in my home, in my life. This is no longer a pregnancy, this is a baby that will join us, and join us soon. I feel like the birth of Jelly is imminent. Days, weeks, away. It is soon, I can feel it. I can feel Jelly's presence in my heart and in my home. I am ready. So very ready.

Jelly is ready. With their head completely engaged and my uterus preparing for labouring with constant braxton hicks. Jelly is ready to be here, wants to be here. I can feel it. I can feel the connection between me and baby and I can hear baby telling me they wont be long, they are not far.

My body is ready. My mind is ready. Ready for this birth. For the blessing of being able to bring this child into the world. I feel connected, my mind to my body to my heart. I am excited, almost impatient, for the day to arrive. For me to be able to work with my baby to end this pregnancy and journey through our birth together and then begin this life.

Sunday, 17 February 2013

My Sister lost her son. He was born sleeping. Left this world before he got to enter this world. It was heart breaking and gut wrenching. One of the most emotionally traumatic moments of my life, of her life. To watch someone I love with such intensity, to watch someone I have admired and looked up to my entire life, go through something so unbelievably painful was unexplainable. It continues to be unexplainable, incomprehensible. There has not been a single day that I have been able to offer any sense of advice or support or empathy that made any sense to me, or to her. All I have been able to do is sit and listen, nod my head and offer my hand, my shoulder and my tears. All I will ever be able to do is listen. Because this type of pain, this kind of loss, just does not make any sense. We can not begin to understand the loss of an unborn child. My Nephew, Tyson James, was 37 weeks young. He wasn't given a chance to take his first breath outside of the womb. He never left the warm embrace of my Sister's body. He was created and then he was taken, only ever knowing the sound of his Mummy's heart and only ever knowing the warmth of her home. Tyson was born sleeping three years ago. I often find myself thinking about him, playing in amongst the clouds. Chasing a football, just like his Daddy. Watching over his family and sending butterflies kisses down. With the heart and strength of his Mummy and the kindness and gentleness of his Daddy, the smarts of his Sister and the adventure of his Brother. A perfect little angel, given to them to protect them, to love them and to remind them of how precious life is and how beautiful their love is.I will never be able to understand the feelings my Sister feels. The thoughts she has. The hurt she feels. I will never be able to take it away for her. I will never be able to help her feel better. I will never be able to help. No matter how much I want to or how hard I try, this is something that only she can know. A loss that is inexplicable. Today, as I sat in Jelly's nursery, I thought about my Sister. I thought about how it feels to be full term pregnant. The excitement. The anticipation. The uncertainty. Today as I prepared my babies room I thought about the possibility of this baby not arriving safely. I sat on the floor of my babies nursery and I cried. I cried for the loss of my Sisters baby boy. I cried for the pain that she has experienced. I cried for the heart ache. As I sat there and cried, for just one brief moment, I had the slightest inclining of an understanding and then my heart broke for her. Since having my own child, Evelyn, it has become more real. To know what you can lose when you lose a child in this way. For just a small moment, I thought about what she lost, what I could lose, and my heart weeped. It weeped for my Nephew, for my Sister, for their loss. For the loss of all stillborn babies. It weeped in fear of this happening again. To me. To any woman.A pain like this is a pain no one should ever know, especially not my Sister. I wish I could make it better. I wish I could understand how this happens. I wish I could make it stop. I wish for no woman to ever know this pain. But they do and all we can do is offer our hands.Let them know we are here, we love them and that we will never forget.I will never forget you Tyson James... Happy Birthday, my sweet baby nephew xx

Evelyn: As I prepare our babies room for their sweet arrival, you make sure all the things are Evie approved. You walk around the nursery saying "Bab-bee". I just know you are going to make the sweetest of Sisters, you make me so very proud.

Saturday, 16 February 2013

It is amazing the things that can upset a Mother and yet, in the very same breath, can fill a Mother with pride and joy. I find that I am feeling these two conflicting feelings more and more the older that Evelyn becomes. Which each milestone that she reaches I find that I grieve the loss of my baby but I rejoice and celebrate in the arrival of her person. So conflicting, so confusing.Our latest milestone, has been the transition from a little girls cot to a big girls bed. Such a big step. A step that reminds me how quickly time has gone by. How much she has grown in such little time. But a step that shows me just how little she still is. Her tiny little body swimming in amongst those sheets and blankets and space. It is a gentle reminder that although I think she is growing so fast, she is still so little and still has so much growing to do.Her transition from the cot to the big bed has made me nothing but proud. So very proud. It has been two nights now and one day nap. Without a single hiccup. The first night she was unsure and apprehensive but with gentle encouragement and support, reassurance that we are just outside and will be here if ever she needs, she drifted off into a deep sleep, surrounded by the teddies she loves and her new blankets and pillows. Her day nap made me most proud. She played on her bed for 20 minutes, without taking the lunge off the edge and then she simply laid her head down and drifted off into three hours of sleep. Not once leaving her bed to play or leave. My heart swelled with pride and my eyes with tears of joy.Putting Evelyn to bed now is such a delight. I get to sit with her, lay with her, read to her and snuggle her. Before I go to bed, I walk in and can simply kiss her on the head. She is reachable, touchable. She is beautiful. I grieve the loss of my baby. But I am rejoicing in the arrival of this perfect, beautiful little girl. This girl full of light and beauty, kindness and love. She is no longer my baby, she is her own self. Her own person and I could not be anymore proud and grateful to be the one who guides her through this life. One big girl bed at a time.We are so very proud of you Dear Evelyn Rosexx

This week feels like such a milestone. A milestone in time and a milestone of the heart. So much has changed, calmed, relaxed. I feel ready. I feel excited and I feel empowered. Exhausted, yes, and ready for Jelly to come into the world, yes. But I am finally calm and patient and just... at peace.35 weeks. That is such a long time to be pregnant but really, such a very short time to create an entire human being. How amazing are our bodies? I mean really, Jelly started off as just two cells. One from my body and one from Anthony's and at this very point in time Jelly is around 46 centimetres long and 2.5 kilograms of perfectly formed, miniature sized human. All baby needs to do between now and then time I get to see their face is fatten up. In only 35 weeks a miracle has been created. A miracle that I made. How amazing are we!?We don't have photos this week as we were busy in Bowral learning how to be calm. We attended Peter Jackson's calm birth class. There is so much I learnt and so much that I feel and so much I need to say about this weekend. But I am still enjoying the high of all that I learnt and words just are not finding me yet. All I will say for now is that I am ready. I am ready to birth my baby and I am ready to have an experience. Peter has given me strength, courage and power over this last weekend and I can tackle the world.This entire pregnancy I have never thought that Jelly and I would make it to 35 weeks. I was paranoid, convinced that this baby is going to arrive well before its time. That we would have to fight for this baby's life. But, here we are. We are healthy and strong. In only two short weeks we will be full term and it will be safe for Jelly to arrive at any time. Jelly, we made it. Not without our hiccups but we are here and I just could not be any happier to know that you are healthy and you are strong and you are perfect. We are perfect. We are waiting for you. Any time you want to join us, that is okay. We are ready. What an adventure we have ahead of us!Its you and me babe, together we will get you into this world

Friday, 8 February 2013

It was towel washing day, one of my favourite washing days. Towel washing day normally equates a late night shower with the candles burning and music playing. Late night showers means me. Only me. No interruptions, just peace to enjoy the water running down my skin and thoughts twirling in my mind. Towel washing day is one of my favourite days. I get to have a shower, on my own. Without Evelyn in the room crying for my attention. Without Evelyn at my feet in the shower playing with her toys. Towel washing day, I savour, I celebrate and I enjoy every single drop of water that falls on my body. I then step out of the shower onto the fresh bath mat and I unfold that beautifully washed towel. I get a breath of sea salt and fabric softener. My favourite smell. And then I wrap that towel around my body and I enjoy the feeling of the freshly cleaned towel.

Towel washing day is a magical day in my house. It is a day that I truly treasure and look forward to. It is my day to take my break and enjoy all the finer things in life. I get to forget, for just a few short moments, how everything in my life is now shared with my children. My children whom I adore and love with all my heart, but whom I also enjoy a moment away from. I forget that my body is no longer mine, it is Jelly's to live off, taking every nutrient for oneself and leaving me with the bare minimum. It is Evelyn's to climb on, to sit on, to nuzzle in to, to take comfort from. I get to forget that my food is no longer mine, it is Evelyn's to eat, to throw, to play with. My drink, that is her's too.

My jewellery is hers to play with. My sleep time, is theirs, it is for Jelly to disturb and it is for Evelyn to post pone. My bed is a cubby to play within. My toilet time is a lesson in toilet paper, flushing toilets, potty training. My pencils are hers to draw with, because Mums are more fun than crayons. My underwear is Evelyn's, to pull on and stretch and play with. My mind is theirs, full of thoughts, worries, concerns and love for both of them. My spare time is their time. Motherhood is about sharing. We share our lives and our bodies and everything in between. I love to share with my children. Mostly I enjoy it, I get to teach Evelyn while I share my life with her and I am able to watch her learn. I love to share with my children.

But on towel washing day, I get to have my very own moment. I get to have my very own newly washed and neatly folded towel. It is mine and I will not share it. If you try to take it away from me, I will bite. Because this moment is only mine and I will be selfish.

Anthony learnt this lesson, the very hard way. On this particular washing day, my late night shower was an early afternoon shower. I had to share the bathroom with Evelyn and Anthony who were taking a bath. They were quietly playing while I closed my eyes and let the water fall, I drifted off into another world, a world where I am just Jess. That was, until I was awoken by the words

We will just use Mummy's towel

My clean, fresh air with a little sea salt dried, fabric softened, folded towel was shaken awake and wrapped around the tiny body of my Daughter and I saw her enjoy the moment. The moment that is mine. I saw her nuzzle into that towel, my towel and then I watched them walk away from me and I quietly weeped a little defeat. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that it is just a towel. A fresh towel, but just a towel. I reminded myself that I am no longer just Jess, I am Mummy and I am to share.

I tried to wash away my frustrations but they slowly began to grow bigger and bigger. Until I turned off the water and I wrapped myself in my now damp and crumpled towel and I walked out to Anthony and I said NO, not okay! He did not understand, not even slightly. He says to me that it is just a towel and that he didn't realise something like a towel could be such a big deal.

In that moment, I realised that Daddy is never going to understand why something as small as a towel can be such a huge deal. Daddy will never understand why Mummy holds that towel and that moment so close to her heart. Was it worth having the argument? Probably not. But I pushed on through and tried to explain that there is very little left that is only mine and he just took away one of the only things Evelyn hasn't touched yet.

Daddy didn't understand and until Daddy has to share the toilet with Evelyn and Jelly every single time he goes, Daddy won't understand. Until Daddy has to share every single meal with his children, he wont understand. Until Daddy has to share all that Mummy has to share, every day, Daddy will never have the ability to understand why something as small as a towel can be so important.

Towel washing day is my day, it is my moment and I will continue to treasure that one moment because we Mummy's need to take what we can get.

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Yesterday we got to watch you resting peacefully within my tummy. Your family sat and watched you in awe while you played with your feet, practiced your breathing and lived within me. It was beautiful. You were beautiful. You heart is strong, your measurements are outstanding and you are head down and engaged. You are ready and we are ready. It was such a joy, a pleasure, a true blessing to be able to see you again at this late a stage and to have my mind put at ease that you are safe and well and growing. Today, your Daddy and I finally found a name that we both agreed on. That we both loved. We wont decide on it for certain until we get to hold you but for now, we have the beginning of names to consider. I truly believe we were both inspired by seeing your little face yesterday because this name just fell into my lap today and I feel like it is you... it is us. I cannot wait to see your little face and be able to put a name to it, wether it is this one or another.I am still feeling very emotional and very strained, but please know, these feelings are not in anyway related to how I feel about you and your arrival. I love you, so very dearly and I am anticipating you with every fibre of my body. These feelings are about myself and my ability to be a good Mother to you and your Sister. These feelings are about my desire to provide you both with the best possible life and home you can have. These feelings are about me. Not you. You are loved, you are wanted and you are needed.You are guesstimated to be weighing 6 pound 2 ounces. This scares me, immensely. Your sister, at birth, weighed 7"11. So I will be very shocked to see you be too much bigger than that. But to know you are growing so healthily was such a relief and has really put my mind at ease. Jelly, we only have 6 weeks to wait. There are no words to explain just how excited I am for the day to come where I can hold your hand in mine, where I can whisper 'I love you' in your ears, where I can get lost in your eyes. There are no words. Its you and me babe, together we will be

Monday, 4 February 2013

I can barely believe it. You are only two small months off being two big years old! And only one teeny month off being the greatest big Sister ever. You rock my world. You truly bring so much life, happiness and laughter to my world. This last month has been a big month for us. I have taken the dummy away from you, I have given it back to you. We lost our sleep routine and your desire to actually ever want to sleep and then we found it again. You pull your hair out and I get upset. You are learning about disobedience but you are also learning about respect, manners, politeness and kindness. You push the boundaries but you seem to like and need the boundaries.Your tantrums are getting bigger, wilder and stronger. You are determined, you are adventurous and you are curious. So when your inquisitive nature puts your fragile body in harms way and your Mama or Daddy step in to save you, you just cannot understand why. Why can't I jump off this big ledge? Why cant I play with the cutlery? Why cant I walk through the waves? Why!? So you yell and you scream and you cry. But you are still manageable. I can still settle you down and I can still reason with you. I get down to your level and I hold you firmly and I explain to you that "Mummy loves you and Mummy doesnt want to see you get hurt and if you do this you will be hurt. Ouchies". You seem to understand because you stop tantruming and you give me a cuddle and then you take me by the hand and say "walk".You are creative, imaginative, busy. You are always wanting to learn new things, see new things and go to new places. You tire me out, I cannot keep up with you. But I try. I want you to touch, feel, see and taste all that this world has to offer you. So we create, we imagine games and we get busy. Your most favourite place in the world is with your Mama at her most favourite place in the world. The beach. We walk the sand, we jump over waves, we run from the waves, we jump off mini sand dunes, we dig holes and build castles, we collect shells and we pick flowers. So many beautiful flowers. You are always calm, always happy. You have a smile on your face that does not exist anywhere else but here. You and me, we have a rhythm by the beach. Our hearts beat together, slowly and calmly. We know each other best when we are here. We enjoy each other best when we are here. The beach is our home and I am so very grateful that I am able to give you this. That I am able to surround your life by the magic that is the ocean. It gives me great pride, in myself, that you know the power of the water at age 22 months. You respect the beauty and you understand the magic. You know that there is something so very special here. I may not have a religion and I may not ever teach you one (although I will encourage you if that is what you chose to do) but I do have a faith and my faith can be found at the beach. I think you are learning to have the same faith and that just makes my heart swell.In the coming month we will be putting you in a big girl bed, we will be teaching you about the potty, we are focusing on colours. You will become a big Sister. This coming month will be all about learning. Learning new things. New responsibilities. You are already such a beautiful little helper, always wanting to get Mummy the things she needs, pegs, nappies, cloth, broom. You are always so proud of the things you do that make my days easier and always so happy when you get something right. So this month will be all about encouraging those aspects of your personality. This month will be big. Big for you and me. You are cheeky. Smiley. Kind. Fun. Joyous. You light up any room, you light up my life. People love you, they cant help but to love you. You have a light about you, one that makes everyone smile. One that just makes life happier. You, my dearest baby girl, are destined for big things. You have the power to do anything that you want, anything that you dream. And I will hold your hand through any and every decision you chose. Because this life is yours sweet girl. This life is yours to live and love and take with both hands!22 months. It feels like a lifetime. Life before you just a distant memory. Life without you a nightmare. You are what makes life full. In 22 shorts months, you have changed the world. My world.I love you, my Dear Evelyn Rose, I love you so very deeply.